Wolfsong
by Cat2000
Summary: More murders take place in Seattle. They look very much like the ones Twinkie (Regina or Renata) committed, and when Mark and the others find out that she escaped from the convent, that only seems to confirm their suspicions. A woman on Mark's college cou
1. Chapter One

**Wolfsong**

**Chapter One**

****

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from the book Regina's Song, and I'm not making any money from this fic 

**Summary:** More murders take place in Seattle. They look very much like the ones Twinkie (Regina or Renata) committed, and when Mark and the others find out that she escaped from the convent, that only seems to confirm their suspicions. A woman on Mark's college course seems to know more about the murders than she's letting on, but things get even more complicated when she and Mark start getting close to each other 

**Author's Note:** Grr... I _hate_ plot bunnies! This one kept on gnawing at my mind until I finally gave in and decided to write the first chapter. I felt that the best way of doing this fic would be by writing it from Mark's point of view, like in the book, but I don't write from the first person point of view very often, so I'd like people to tell me if it works or not, please 

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The first I heard of the murder was on Monday morning. 

It was the first day of the course I was teaching after the summer break. Another new day. A lot of new faces fresh out of school. Most of them wouldn't be cut out for the course. Hopefully, I'd be able to weed out all of the weak ones during the first week, leaving me with the best ones. The ones who would be _really_ willing to work. 

I woke up before my alarm went off, and switched it off before it could ring. 

I got out of bed, feeling unusually bright and wide awake, and ran through my notes to check that I had everything for the first day of class. Not that there was a lot to do on the first day. Just a short talk, give out first assignment, and then leave. 

I had a quick shave and a shower, then got dressed and went downstairs and into the kitchen. 

The girls were already in the kitchen. By the girls, I mean Sylvia, Trish, and Erika, who pretty much run the entire household. Us guys get to do all of the hard labour - fixing things, putting up shelves, and so on. 

Erika gave me a cup of coffee as soon as I walked into the kitchen, and then pointed to the door. "Out," she ordered. "We can't cook with you boys always under our feet." 

"Go and join the others in the living room," Trish put in. "They're watching the news or something like that." 

"Ok, babe," I replied. I walked into the living room, to find Charlie and James sitting on the sofa, apparently glued to the television set. 

"Something interesting on?" I asked dryly when they didn't acknowledge my presence. 

James finally tore his eyes away from the screen, though Charlie still watched. "Oh, yeah, there's something interesting going on," he answered. "There's been a murder." 

"So what?" I shrugged, also taking a seat. "It's terrible and all... But hardly worth _this_ level of fascination." 

James met my gaze. "The reporters are talking about Joan the Ripper," he told me. 

It took a couple of moments for what James had just said to sink in. When it did, I shook my head. "No way," I said. "That's impossible." 

Charlie finally looked at me. "Yeah, we know," he responded. "It couldn't have been Renata, because she's at that convent." 

I exchanged a glance with James. Only he and I knew of James' theory that Renata was in fact Regina. That Renata had been the one who was raped and murdered. 

Regina had supposedly been the dominant twin, the one who would have gone looking for a telephone when the car the twins were in broke down. But Regina and Renata had swapped identities so often that, according to James, it was quite possible that they swapped dominance along with their identities. Their hair ribbons. Red for Regina and blue for Renata. 

It didn't really matter which twin had been murdered, though. Especially not now. Twinkie had been in a mental hospital after the death of her twin, and had supposedly recovered... Only, she hadn't really. As soon as she had come here, she had started murdering men. Not just any men, either. Men with records of rape, or attempted rape, against women. 

Of course, no one suspected Twinkie of being the murderer. How could they? She seemed fine. Sure, she had bad days, and days where she seemed to relapse, but that was normal for a recovering mentally ill person. 

It was partly _my_ fault that the police discovered that Twinkie was Joan the Ripper. I put the facts together, and realised that it was Twinkie a short time before she killed the person who had murdered her sister. I tried to get to her to stop her from killing him, but I lost her in the fog. 

I'd been up late every night watching Mary's house, where Twinkie was staying, in order to try and prove her innocence. I figured that if Joan the Ripper had struck, and Twinkie hadn't left the house, then that would mean that she was definitely _not_ the killer. 

Only, it turned out that Twinkie _was_ the killer. 

Because I'd been so tired, it didn't occur to me to take the purse containing the evidence of Twinkie's guilt away from her when she sheltered in Father O'Donnell's church. It didn't occur to me, and so, when she ended up in the hospital, the truth of the matter had come out. 

Things were just starting to die down with the whole Joan the Ripper thing. Now, this new murder threatened to bring it all to the surface again. I could only be thankful that the press didn't know where Twinkie was. I was sure that the mother superior of the Sisters of Hope convent wouldn't be very impressed with press turning up on her doorstep. 

The news report finished, and Charlie switched off the television. We sat in silence for a while. Then, I asked, "Do the girls know about this?" 

Both Charlie and James shook their heads. 

"Well, then, we'd probably better tell them this," I commented. "If there's a killer out there, it's probably going to be a copycat killer... But the murders might not be restricted to just men this time. We need to warn the girls to be careful." 

"Why don't we go down to the Green Lantern Tavern this evening after college?" Charlie suggested. "We could see if Bob has any information about the killing, and how similar it is to the ones Renata committed." 

I grinned at that. "Your brother's probably going to be expecting us," I noted. "Considering how often we turned up with the last lot of murders." 

At just that moment, the girls came in to tell us that breakfast was ready. We all moved into the dining room. 

While we were eating, Charlie and James filled Erika, Sylvia, and Trish in on the news report they had just seen. I didn't say anything as I had only caught the tail end of it. 

Once they had finished, Trish frowned. "Maybe you'd better call up Father O'Donnell to check that Renata _is_ all right," she told me. 

"But she probably will be," I objected. "There's no reason to think that she won't be. And then Father O'Donnell will just think that I'm making a fuss about nothing." 

Trish said nothing, merely stared hard at me. 

"You'd better do what she says," James said. "You don't want to get on the wrong side of the people who feed us, after all." 

"Yeah, that's right," Erika put in, grinning at me. 

I gave her a flat, unfriendly stare. Then, I sighed. "All right," I muttered. "I'll ring him now. But I still think that it'll be a waste of time." I didn't move out of my seat. 

"Do you need a reminder of where the phone is?" Sylvia asked sweetly. 

Deciding to ignore that comment, I walked into the living room, picked up the phone, and dialed Father O's number. 

Father O'Donnell answered on the first ring. "Hello, Father O'Donnell speaking." 

"Hey, Father O, it's me, Mark," I said. 

"Mark! I'm glad you called," Father O'Donnell responded, the relief in his voice obvious. "I was just about to call you." 

Uh-oh. That didn't sound very good. I gripped the phone tighter until my knuckles turned white, and tried to force my voice to remain calm. "What's up?" 

"Well, it's about Renata..." Father O'Donnell began. 

My knees felt weak, and I had to sit down before I fell down. I _knew_ it! Something had happened to her. 

"She's gone," Father O'Donnell went on. 

"Gone? What do you mean, gone?" I asked stupidly. 

"She managed to get out of the convent," Father O'Donnell answered after a moment's hesitation. "I thought that I should ring you and let you know." 

"I'm glad you did," I responded. "Did you see the news story that was on just a few minutes ago? There's been another murder, and the press are talking about Joan the Ripper. I gather that it's similar to the killings Twinkie did." 

Father O'Donnell was silent for so long that I wondered if he had been cut off. Finally, he said, "You'd better let your friend on the police force know that Renata has escaped, then. She could easily be involved in this murder." 

"That's extremely unlikely," I argued. "There would be no reason for her to be. She already killed the person who murdered her sister." 

"I know," Father O'Donnell replied. "But you'd still better tell the police. If this murder is anything like the ones Renata committed, the police are going to immediately come up with her name as a suspect." 

"I know," I sighed. "I'll tell Bob. We're probably going to be seeing him tonight. We as in me, Charlie, and James. Thank you for letting me know, Father O." 

"It's all right, Mark." There was a pause, then, "I'm sure that this is the work of a copycat killer, Mark. I don't want Renata to be the murderer any more than you do." 

There was a click as Father O disconnected the call. I stared at the receiver for a while, then replaced it in its cradle before returning to the dining room to let the others know what I had found out. 

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I stood at the front of the classroom, and watched the students file in. There was a lot of talking and laughing going on, probably from the not-so-serious ones, mainly the suck-ups. 

There was one girl who made immediate eye-contact with me, clearly sizing me up. She had coffee-coloured skin with thick black hair pulled into a ponytail and hazel eyes. Her nose was a little too big, and she looked only slightly younger than I was. She was dressed in casual clothes and carried a backpack slung over one shoulder. 

I returned her stare until she broke eye contact and looked down, a small smile playing around her lips. I had to wonder if she was a suck-up, or if she was really here to keep her nose to the grindstone and get the best possible grade. 

When everyone was seated, with the usual amount of shuffling and people all but tripping over each other, I told them to pass their enrollment cards to the front. 

This group wasn't any different from the many others that I've taught. It took them at least ten minutes to find their enrollment cards. Some things never change. 

I handed out the course syllabus, and then gave them the whole 'speech' about the course. When I had finished, most of them, including the girl who had stared at me when she came in, looked rather surprised if not shocked. Giving them the assignment on 'What I did over the summer' elicited more than a few groans. 

When they all got up to leave, I grabbed my things, planning to make a quick getaway. It didn't really work, though. The black girl, who I found out was called Lyra Wilson, came over to me and asked if she could talk to me. 

She didn't say anything until everyone else had gone, by which time I was beginning to feel more than a little fed-up. 

"Miss Wilson, can I help you?" I asked with a slight trace of impatience. 

"Is it absolutely _necessary_ to do a paper on 'What I did over the summer'?" Lyra asked after a moment. "What I mean is, could I do it on something else? Like, for example, 'What I hope to gain from this course'?" 

I inwardly groaned. Great. Someone expecting special treatment. Not a complete surprise. I held Lyra's gaze. "Miss Wilson, if you refuse to do the work, then this is obviously not the course for you." 

Lyra blinked at that, then frowned. "But... It's not that I don't want to do the work," she protested. "I'd just rather not do a paper on that particular subject." 

"You cannot pick and choose what subject you do your paper on," I told her. "If you think that you can, then you clearly shouldn't be here." 

If looks could kill, I would have dropped dead right then. Lyra stormed out of the classroom, muttering what I thought were swear words under her breath. 

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Read and review, please! 

I apologise for the summary of the book... It was easier for me to do it that way


	2. Chapter Two

**Wolfsong**

**Chapter Two**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from Regina's Song, and I'm not making any money from this fic

**Author's Note:** Ok, I'm going to change something slightly. The majority of this fic _is_ going to be written from Mark's point of view, but some parts can't be. You'll know which parts those are because they won't be written using the first person

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I drove as fast as possible back from college. I wanted to get to the Green Lantern Tavern to see if Charlie's brother Bob could tell us anything about the murder.

I paused at a red traffic light, and tapped my fingers lightly against the steering wheel as I waited for the lights to change to green.

I was trying to think about what Bob might say about the murder, but I kept seeing Lyra Wilson's face in my mind. I wondered why she hadn't wanted to do the paper on 'What I did over the summer'. I probably should have asked her about it, but chances were that it wasn't anything really important.

As the traffic lights finally changed to green, I thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I had to look again to be sure of what I had just glimpsed.

There was a wolf standing on the corner of the street.

I blinked, and the wolf was gone. Now that it wasn't there anymore, I wasn't so sure that I really _had_ seen it. It could have just been my imagination. Then again, why would I imagine seeing a wolf?

Someone behind me honked their horn, and I started driving again, still trying to work out what was with that wolf.

Oh, wait. I knew why I might have imagined seeing a wolf. When Twinkie had been murdering people, she had had a tape that she always listened to with a woman singing to the sound of wolves howling. With the new murder, I must have been subconsciously thinking a lot about wolves. So, therefore, I thought I saw a wolf. Really, it made perfect sense.

So why did I think that there was more to it than that?

_After we've been to see Bob, I'll see if I can find anything out about whether or not a wolf has escaped from one of the zoos,_ I decided. _At the very least, it'll give _me_ peace of mind._

That having been worked out, I turned into the road.

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_Lyra was racing through the woods, feeling terrified out of her mind. The phone call from Andrew had worried her greatly. She lost all hope of seeing her friend alive again._

_If _only_ they hadn't started to investigate that murder case! If they'd just left it well alone, then Andrew would not have become a target because of what he had found out._

_A dark shape appeared in front of Lyra, and she let out a choked gasp, suddenly unable to scream. She took a step back, feeling the rough bark of a tree dig into her spine._

_"Well, well. What do we have here?" a male voice asked._

_Lyra glanced to one side, and found herself face-to-face with a hooded man wearing very baggy clothes. She couldn't see his features because his face was in shadows._

_Lyra whimpered, and tried to move back even further, forgetting that there was a tree behind her. "Wh... Where's Andrew?" Her voice cracked as she spoke the name of her friend. She knew that he was dead. He had to be. He had called her from this forest, and now the killer was here as well._

_Something glittered in the darkness, and Lyra knew that it was a knife as the killer pressed it against her throat. She trembled as she felt the sharp edge cut slightly into her skin and warm blood trickle down. And the only thought going through her mind was, _This top is going to be stained. My mum's going to be mad at me. I've already ruined enough clothes as it is.

_"Your friend is dead," the killer told Lyra in a singsong voice which terrified the woman even more than the knife held to her throat. "You should not have interfered in my work," the killer added._

_"I called the police," Lyra bluffed. "I called them just before I came out here. They'll be here soon."_

_The man chuckled. "Nice try," he responded. "Unfortunately, I know that you're lying."_

_"What... do you mean?" Lyra asked, uncomfortably aware of how close the steel was to her throat. One quick slash and her life would be over. Just like Andrew's._

_"You and your friend are not the only ones who can do detective work," the murderer replied. "I had your phone bugged. Andrew's, too. I know exactly who you've spoken too, and the police wasn't among them. Besides, do you honestly think that the police would have believed you? They already think that you're mad."_

How could he know that?_ Lyra wondered. _Andrew and I only tried to tell the police. We didn't mention what we'd found to anyone else.

_"Who are you?" Lyra questioned._

_"I don't think I want to tell you that," the man said._

_"Why not?" Lyra wanted to know. "You're going to kill me anyway."_

_"Not at this moment," the man responded. He then made a high-pitched whistling noise._

_A shape which looked like a wolf leaped at Lyra, and the woman felt a tearing pain in her shoulder before everything went black. The last sound she heard was the murderer's laughter, which sounded so familiar..._

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As soon as we had finished eating, James, Charlie, and I went round to the Green Lantern Tavern to see if Bob had any news for us.

Bob must have guessed that we were going to come and see him, because he was already sitting in the booth. He also wasn't surprised to see us. His first words were, "I was wondering how long it would take for you two to show up."

"What can you tell us?" Charlie wanted to know.

"Not a lot," Bob admitted. "This murder looks very similar to the ones committed before, right down to the curare injected into the victim to stop them from being able to run away, struggle, or cry out."

The noise in the Tavern was all but deafening, but we didn't dare speak any louder. The last thing the police needed was for some reporter to just happen to be in the Green Lantern Tavern and overhear us. It wasn't likely, especially not with all of this noise, but sometimes it paid to be careful.

"Is there anything _different_ about this murder?" James questioned, shooting a quick glance at me. We _really_ didn't want it to be Twinkie.

"We haven't _found_ anything different," Bob said. "But it _has_ to be a copycat killing. After all, Renata Greenleaf _is_ in that Sisters of Hope convent."

Charlie looked at me. "I think you'd better tell him."

"Tell me what?" Bob asked.

I hesitated. If I was honest, I _really_ didn't think that Twinkie had had anything to do with this new murder. She'd already killed the person who murdered her twin sister, so she'd had her revenge. But Twink wasn't really sane, so she might have _totally_ flipped.

"I spoke to Father O this morning," I told Bob reluctantly. "Apparently, Twinkie managed to escape the convent."

Bob swore.

"Yeah, that was pretty much _our_ reaction," Charlie responded.

"You _do_ know what this means, right?" Bob asked me. "When it's discovered that Miss. Greenleaf's escaped from the convent, fingers are going to be naturally pointing in her direction, even if it _wasn't_ her who committed the murder. And there's going to be no chance of an insanity hearing this time. The press are like sharks in water scenting blood. They'll demand justice, even if the justice they're seeking is against the wrong person."

I nodded slowly. "I know," I said. "I thought pretty much the same thing."

"Thank goodness Burpee isn't on the police force any longer," James murmured.

Burpee had been a police officer who had been trying to get a big-time gang leader called Cheetah after he made a mistake which caused him to lose the gang leader and got him demoted. When Twinkie had started killing people, Cheetah had left town, apparently scared that her real target was him. Burpee had been furious, and had nearly ruined Twink's chances of getting into the convent by blabbing everything to the press despite everyone being warned not to by Judge Compson. Burpee was now suspended indefinitely from the police force, which was just as well, if you asked me.

Bob slowly shook his head. "I can try and keep Miss. Greenleaf's name out of it, but that won't work for very long," he told us. "So far, the other officers working on the case believe that it's the work of a copycat killer, which is very likely. But if we find evidence that Renata Greenleaf _is_ the killer, then I'm not going to remove the evidence. Do you understand me?"

"I understand," I said while James and Charlie nodded their agreement.

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Lyra had been unable to get to sleep again after the nightmare she had just had. For one thing, her shoulder, where she had been bitten by the wolf, was throbbing again.

Lyra slipped into her clothes, and then made her way towards the common room in the hotel she and the rest of the students were staying in. Chances were, _someone_ would be awake.

Lyra had asked to have a room on her own. It wasn't that she was unsociable. Far from it. It was simply that the nightmares she had were liable to end up disturbing anyone sleeping in the same room as her considering how often she woke up screaming.

Lyra had woken up in the hospital after being bitten by the wolf, and that had been where she had had Andrew's death confirmed by the police officers who had come to see her and admit that she had actually been right. But their admission had come too late. If they had believed her and Andrew before, Andrew might have actually still been alive.

Bethany was in the common room, reading a book. Her shoulder-length red hair had flopped forward over her face to form a curtain. She hadn't seen Lyra enter the room yet.

Lyra gave a small smile. Bethany had been one of the few people who had attempted to make friends with her after Andrew's death. She had been very patient about it as well. Lyra had eventually opened up to the fiery redhead.

Lyra cleared her throat.

Bethany looked up, and smiled, shifting her feet from where they had been propped up on the cushions of the sofa. "Hey, Sweetie," she greeted Lyra in a soft voice. "Have another nightmare?"

Lyra nodded, and sat down beside Bethany. "I don't know why," she admitted in a soft voice. "I thought that I'd finally gotten past the nightmares stage."

"It's probably stress," Bethany responded. "_I_ was stressed having to come here. After all, I had loads of packing to do. I had to leave most of my makeup behind!"

Lyra had to laugh at that. Bethany loved her makeup. She had had her clothes bag, and then another bag with all of her makeup in which she had been forced to unpack before the man and woman taking them to this town had allowed her to get on the coach.

Bethany grinned. "It can't have been _that_ bad if you're laughing," she said.

Lyra looked down. "I'm probably not going to be able to get to sleep again tonight," she whispered. "So I'll probably stay in here all night instead."

"Great," Bethany replied. "I didn't really want to go to bed anyway."

Lyra gave her friend an odd look. "_You_ don't have to stay up as well," she told Bethany. "I'll be fine on my own."

"I know you will be," Bethany said. "Just humour me, ok? Your parents would never forgive me if I let anything happen to you."

After that statement, the two sat in silence for a while, each caught up in their own thoughts.

A few moments later, the door to the common room was pushed open.

Bethany gave a _very_ undignified squeak, and jumped slightly. Unfortunately, she had already been sitting on the edge of the sofa, so that movement caused her to fall off. She grabbed at Lyra, and the two fell in a heap onto the floor.

"Um.. Are you all right?" the woman who was standing in the doorway asked.

Lyra looked up, and had to rub her eyes. "Oh, no," she groaned.

"What is it?" Bethany demanded, attempting to untangle herself from Lyra. Then she, too, caught sight of their late-night visitor, and gave a soft squeal.

Renata Greenleaf extended a hand to help first Lyra then Bethany to their feet. "Are you two okay?" she wanted to know. "I don't think that falling off a sofa is a very good idea. You could easily get hurt."

Bethany eyed Renata warily while Lyra brushed herself off and then retrieved Bethany's book from where it had fallen.

"Ok... Please tell me this is a bad dream," Bethany said.

"Would you like me to pinch you?" Renata asked sweetly. "You're _not_ dreaming."

"And _you're_ not supposed to be here," Lyra told her as she handed the book back to Bethany. "The last I knew, you were going to that convent."

"I left there," Renata responded. "There's a new murderer on the loose, and they're going to frame _me_."

"How do you know that?" Bethany wanted to know.

"I just do," Renata answered. "I need some place safe to stay. Could I stay here?"

Bethany and Lyra exchanged glances, both thinking that they should really call the police, but neither making a move to do so.

"_Please_?" Renata begged. "All I want to do is find out who's trying to frame me for murders that I definitely haven't committed. You can both watch me as much as you like. As much as you feel comfortable doing."

"Well... We _could_ both move into _your_ room," Bethany said to Lyra.

"But..." Lyra began.

At just that moment, the chilling howl of a wolf broke through the night air.

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Read and review, please!


	3. Chapter Three

**Wolfsong**

**Chapter Three**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from Regina's Song, and I'm not making any money from this fic

**Fimbrethil:** Well, Twinkie isn't _exactly_ 'normal' again... But then, what _is_ normal?

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"So... What did you find out?" Erika asked us as soon as we walked through the front door from being at the Green Lantern Tavern.

"That it's _exactly_ the same as the murders Renata committed," Charlie responded. "Bob said that there doesn't seem to be _any_ differences."

"Do _you_ think that Renata did it?" Sylvia asked me.

"Personally, no," I replied. "I don't think that Twinkie would have any reason to start killing people again. In _her_ mind, at least, Regina's back with her." _Or Renata's back with her, depending on which twin was actually killed,_ I added silently. I then looked at Trish. "What are the chances of a judge convicting Twinkie because of the murders being practically identicle to the ones _she_ committed?" I questioned.

Trish shrugged a little. "It really depends on the lawyer," she answered. "But, chances are that Renata _will_ be charged with the murder unless there is serious evidence found that she _isn't_ the murderer."

"And considering the fact that she's escaped from the Sisters of Hope convent, it doesn't really look good," James put in.

"I know," I sighed. "Is there much to eat? I'm feeling quite hungry at the moment, for some reason."

"_We'll_ fix something up," Erika told me. "You boys go and sit in the living room."

"I can fix something up myself," I objected halfheartedly.

"Living room. Now," Trish ordered.

"Yes, ma'am," I sighed.

"It's no use arguing with them," Charlie murmured to me as we made our way into the living room. "They're determined to mother us."

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"At least this room's big enough for two people," Bethany commented as she started putting her clothes away in some of the drawers.

"Yeah, I can't _believe_ Mr. Raymond let you move into my room straight away," Lyra responded.

"It probably has something to do with the fact that you knocked on his door in the early hours of the morning," Renata said. "I think he only agreed so that he could get rid of you and go back to sleep."

"Whatever," Bethany replied with a grin. "I'm just glad he didn't ask any questions."

"What are we going to do about sleeping arrangements?" Lyra wanted to know. "One of us is going to have to sleep on the floor."

"Why don't we take it in turns?" Bethany suggested.

"But then we'd probably end up having to change the sheets every day," Renata pointed out. "_I'll_ sleep on the floor."

"No, you won't," Bethany retorted. "You're a guest."

"You're _both_ guests," Lyra said. "_I'll _sleep on the floor."

Bethany glared at her friend. "Oh no you won't," she responded. "_You_ have nightmares."

Renata glanced curiously at Lyra. _What kind of nightmares?_ she wondered.

"I'll sleep on the floor," Bethany added. "I insist."

"Fine, whatever," Lyra muttered. "But I claim first use of the bathroom!" And, with those words, Lyra grabbed her nightgown, and shot through the door leading into the adjoining room.

"Whew." Renata sat down on the bed she was going to be sleeping in, and looked at Bethany. "Is she always like this?"

"Not usually," Bethany answered, going over to one of the wardrobes. She opened it, and started trying to drag the mattress that was in there out. Renata came over to help.

"Thanks," Bethany smiled as they placed the mattress on the floor.

"No problem," Renata replied with a shrug. She settled back down on the bed, and looked curiously at Bethany. "So... You and Lyra don't live in this town?"

Bethany shook her head with a soft laugh. "Hardly," she responded. "All of us here are here because there are college courses near here that are relevant to the particular job we're doing, so we can get much better grades and do better work."

Renata tilted her head to one side. "What's the work that _you_ do?" she asked.

"Fashion. Couldn't you tell?" Bethany struck a ridiculous pose which made Renata giggle. "Seriously, though," Bethany continued, unfolding her nightgown and laying it neatly on the bed before going over to the wardrobe to get a blanket. "I'm helping to design new clothes, but I'm not too good at expanding on my ideas. I'm hoping that this course will help me learn how to do that."

Renata slowly nodded. "Has it helped you so far?" she wanted to know.

"Hardly!" Bethany giggled. "I'm so hopeless that I probably won't pick up anything until the last day anyway."

"What about Lyra?" Renata questioned.

Bethany's smile suddenly vanished. "You should probably ask Lyra that yourself," she said flatly. "It's not really my place to explain anything. She _is_ doing a major in English, though."

Renata suddenly perked up. "Is her lecturer Mark Austin?" she demanded excitedly.

Bethany blinked, and then nodded slowly. "I think so..." she answered. "Why?"

"Oh, I used to know him," Renata replied. "That's all." She then blinked, and suddenly started murmuring to herself in a different language that didn't sound familiar to Bethany at all.

Bethany drew back a little, feeling suddenly scared. She remembered seeing that court case about the murders Renata Greenleaf had committed... Hadn't the news mentioned something about there being an insanity hearing? That was why she had gone to that convent, after all, wasn't it?

Renata looked up, and flashed a smile at Bethany. "Sorry about that," she apologised. "Regina just wanted to know something, that's all."

Bethany went pale. "Who's Regina?" she asked a little unsteadily, glancing around and wondering just what was taking Lyra so long in the bathroom.

"My twin sister, of course," Renata replied brightly. "You can't see her, of course. No one can except for me."

_Kind of like an imaginary friend,_ Bethany thought to herself. She began to tremble just a little bit. Should she call the police about Renata? Or shouldn't she? It wasn't like Renata had harmed anyone yet. Sure, she talked to herself... But Bethany had met loads of people who talked to themselves. That didn't necessarily make them dangerous. Of course, Renata _had_ killed all of those people... But maybe she had a good reason for doing so?

"Would you like to listen to one of my favourite tapes?" Renata asked suddenly, dragging Bethany away from her thoughts.

Bethany tried to smile. "Um, sure," she replied.

"Great." Renata stood up, and walked over to her bag. She rifled through it, and then took out a tape. She then walked over to the cassette player that Lyra had plugged in in one corner of her room to help her get back to sleep if she had a particularly bad nightmare.

Bethany noticed that Renata's voice sounded a little different to how it usually was - it sounded much richer. She was idly wondering why that might be when the tape suddenly came on, and she jerked out of her seat at the sound.

It was the sound of wolves howling.

For just a moment, everything was quiet. Then, a piercing scream echoed from the bathroom.

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On Wednesday morning, I ended up oversleeping. I didn't wake up until James knocked on my bedroom door and told me that breakfast was nearly ready, and that I wouldn't have any if I didn't get up and get dressed immediately.

I got up and struggled into my clothes, yawning all the time. I had no idea why I was so tired. Maybe my body simply didn't want to function today. I _had_, after all, gone to bed quite late the night before.

I glanced quickly at my reflection in the mirror, and decided that I didn't really need to shave this morning. I could surely get away with not shaving just this once.

I managed to make it downstairs just as breakfast was being dished up. I drank some coffee, and immediately felt much better. Coffee was just the thing to keep people awake during the day when all they really wanted to do was sleep.

"Have a late night last night?" Erika asked me sweetly as she put a cooked breakfast in front of me.

"Mm." I attacked the food, feeling like I hadn't eaten in weeks. Finishing, I looked up to see that everyone else was still picking at their food. "Is something wrong?" I asked, frowning a little.

James looked at Charlie. "Do you want to tell him or should I?"

"I think that we should let one of the girls tell him," Charlie responded. "He's less likely to curse if they do."

I looked at each of them in turn, and felt a sinking feeling deep in the pit of my stomach. "Tell me what?" I asked warily.

Sylvia glared at James and Charlie. "Just like men," she muttered. "Trying to foist the responsibility off onto someone else."

"What they're trying _not_ to tell you is that there's been another murder," Trish explained to me.

I dropped my knife and fork onto the remains of food that were still on my plate, suddenly feeling no longer hungry, and stared at Trish. "_What_?!"

"It was on the news while you were still in bed," Erika said. "It's not like the ones that Renata did, though. The press are talking about animals being responsible for the death."

"Then why are you talking about murder?" I felt confused. Maybe it was just because I was still so tired.

"Because the press also mentioned something about it being a possibility that a person trained an animal to kill someone," Charlie told me. "It _could_ just be the press talking out of their butts. But..." He shrugged.

"You still think that we should go and see Bob this evening," I stated.

Charlie nodded.

"Well, at least it would be better than staying ignorant," I muttered, straightening up out of my chair.

"Mark, the dishes are going to need doing," Erika said sweetly.

"Yes, Erika," I sighed, having given up arguing the fact that I would be late for my classes if I washed up. The girls would just argue back that I should have gotten up earlier, and, on this occasion, they'd be right.

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I walked into the classroom with a sea of faces looking at me expectantly, most of them with assignments on the desks in front of them. I was surprised, and a little pleased, to tell the truth, to see that Lyra Wilson had an assignment on the desk in front of her, though she didn't look too happy about it.

I collected up the assignments, and listened to the usual excuses of why some of them had not got theirs with them, then got on with the lesson.

A few minutes before the end, one of the secretaries came in, and glanced quickly around the room before walking over to me. "Mr. Austin, I'm terribly sorry to disturb you," she said in a low voice. "But there's a phone call for a Miss. Lyra Wilson, and she's apparently in your class."

I nodded, and glanced around, then saw Lyra with her head bent over a piece of paper, scribbling furiously. I walked over to her. "Miss. Wilson, there's a phone call for you," I told her.

Lyra glanced up, her face registering surprise, then nodded and got out of her seat and left the classroom.

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Lyra gave the secretary a small smile, then picked up the phone and put it to her ear. "Hello?"

Lyra had recovered quickly on Monday night after hearing the sound of wolves howling on that tape. Renata had apologised, and had promised not to play it again, at least in Lyra's hearing. It brought back too many bad memories for the young woman.

Now, it was just like a repeat of Monday night. Lyra could hear the sound of wolves howling, and her grip tightened on the receiver until her knuckles turned white. "Who is this?" she hissed.

Suddenly, the howling stopped, to be replaced by a soft sobbing noise along with a plea for help. Lyra silently gasped as she recognised Andrew's voice. But how could that be? Her friend was dead... This had to have been recorded from his last moments. There was no way that he could still be alive. It was impossible.

But what if it wasn't?

Suddenly, a whispery male voice came onto the phone. "It's starting all over again," came the cruel whisper.

Lyra gasped and dropped the receiver, then turned and ran from the building.

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